


Medicine

by punknouis



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Chronic Pain, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Zuko (Avatar), M/M, Marijuana, Precious Aang (Avatar), Protective Aang (Avatar), Recreational Drug Use, Zukaang - Freeform, acts of service, i love that that's a tag omg, it's a whole ass fic about that as a love language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:26:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29312565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punknouis/pseuds/punknouis
Summary: Zuko’s scar makes it hard for him to sleep at night. Aang just wants to help him find some relief.
Relationships: Aang/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 48





	Medicine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [airbenderx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/airbenderx/gifts).



> another fic about weed LMAO i'm not sorry at all, it's just a segway to talk about how thoughtful aang is.
> 
> this is a special gift for my birthday twin, tanmai! i hope you enjoy this my dear friend, and i hope your birthday is wonderful because that's what you deserve!! <3
> 
> [this is a headcanon](https://terriblygrimm.tumblr.com/post/630740587409227776/are-you-guys-ready-for-a-soft-headcanon-i-always) that i did not create but got permission to use and thank god i did because what a great one!
> 
> title from Medicine by the 1975! Unbeta’d as usual so I apologize for any mistakes, I'll fix them as I see them!

It started not long after Zuko’s coronation. Aang was visiting him at the palace, and they were up on the balcony. The night air was warm and sticky, which quite suited Aang. He always had enjoyed the climate of the fire nation.

“Well, I should be going to bed.” He said as he rose and stretched his arms above his head, arching his back with a groan. They had been up for a while, talking about nothing of importance. At times, they even just sat in silence together. It was comforting. Aang felt like he could let his guard down in these quiet moments. He didn’t have to have a smile on his face, he didn’t have to be positive, he didn’t have to be up for anything.

He could just be.

And Zuko let him.

Zuko nodded but did not look in Aang’s direction. His eyes were closed, and his fingers pinched his brow. He looked like he was struggling with something.

“Are you alright?” Aang asked softly.

Zuko nodded again but still did not respond. Aang leaned over and placed his hand on his friend’s arm.

“Just…” Zuko took a deep breath before he opened his eyes and looked up at Aang through the dark strands of hair that had fallen in front of his face. “My scar hurts sometimes. At night. It’s like throbbing, and sensitive. Kind of itchy too.”

He exhaled, his voice now barely a whisper, “Makes it hard to sleep.”

That’s what gave Aang the idea. He had recalled a special plant that the monks grew at some of the temples. The one they grew many kinds of and would pick and mix together for certain Air Nomads who were sickly, or simply weary from old age and needed a break from their aching bones. He even remembers the nomads bringing it with them to other places, or receiving guests from other nations, to trade for other goods.

From then on, whenever Aang had some down time in between his Avatar duties, he would travel to the various Air Temples. He would wander around the mountains that surround each temple, alternating between walking and using his glider, to see if any of these plants are still surviving there. The smell is distinct, and once close enough it was easy to pinpoint it. He found the most still growing at the Western Air Temple, one of the few temples with enough lush greenery to allow it to flourish. He collected seeds and planted them at the other temples as well, and watched them grow over the years. He returns to tend to them if needed and to harvest the buds when they are ready. Different species of the plant grow at each of the Air Temples, and Aang collects them all.

It takes much trial and error to figure out when the buds are dry enough to be used, how to trim them most effectively, and how to store them for longevity. Sokka helped him create a special tool to cut the buds up quickly so they can be small enough to use. Sokka leaned over his shoulder and advised what the most effective shape would be, while Aang bent the tool out of stone.

When Aang brought some to Zuko for the first time, Zuko was hesitant. Aang was too, only relying on distant memories, not entirely sure if this would even be helpful to Zuko at all. But he had found a pipe at a marketplace in the outer ring of the Earth Kingdom, evidence that this was not a false memory and that others have carried on with this same practice.

But that first night, Zuko was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow for the first time in almost years.

And Aang smiled to himself. His chest felt warm, from both his own high and the pride of knowing that he did something right. That he made at least one night a little easier for Zuko. He let his own head relax as he laid down next to Zuko, and resisted the urge to move in closer to him.

Afterwards began the whole process of mixing the plants together, finding the strengths and effects of each one. The original blend that Aang had brought for Zuko was good, but Aang didn’t want just good. He wanted it to be perfect. Something that could comfort Zuko, could bring him a sense of relief. Especially at the end of the day.

Aang had begun to collect glass jars to keep the buds in, and meticulously labeled them for Zuko based on what they helped most with. Some made Zuko feel drowsy, clouding his brain to the point of being completely silent until he passed out, and some calmed his anxiety just enough to feel chattier than usual. Some were purely for pain relief (better for Zuko), and some had more psychedelic effects (better for Aang).

Now, Aang unscrews the lid of the largest jar and reaches in to grab a bud. He grinds it up and then pours the remains into the pipe beside him. He wipes his hand on his pants and laughs.

“You would think I would be used to it by now,” he says, mostly to himself, “but every time I have sticky fingers after touching this stuff, I’m shocked and annoyed like it’s the first time.”

From across the room, Zuko hums in agreement. Although his back is turned, Aang can tell he’s smiling. He always found it amusing the way Aang just let his stream of consciousness flow, even if it had no real value. Aang sits up on the bed and balances the pipe on his knee as he watches Zuko undress, pulling the gold flame from his hair and placing it on the dresser. He runs his hands through his hair, now past shoulders.

When Zuko turns to face him, Aang can’t help the grin that no doubt makes him look like an absolute fool. He’s been going to sleep beside this man for years and years now, no longer just as his friend, and the sight of Zuko still makes his heart beat against his ribs like a trapped bird in a cage. The bed sinks as Zuko joins Aang, laying on his side and looking up at Aang through half-lidded eyes. Aang lights the pipe with the tip of his finger and takes a deep inhale from it, getting it started for Zuko to use on his own.

“Are you alright?” Aang asks as he holds the pipe out in front of Zuko’s face.

There’s a loud sigh and then some shuffling of the pillows. Zuko sits up beside him and takes the pipe, taking his own inhale and releasing it slowly before answering.

“I’ve got the worst headache I’ve had in awhile,” he explains. “I’m not sure if it’s from the day I’ve had or just -” he finishes his sentence with a wave of his free hand in front of the scarred side of his face.

Aang turns to nudge his nose across Zuko’s bare shoulder. It’s more often than not that Zuko comes to bed with one of these headaches. His scar has gotten less painful over time, but it still flares up with tension occasionally. Smoking before bed has become an almost nightly routine in order to help him get the rest he needs. Zuko is wound tight enough as it is, but Zuko without enough hours of sleep? Aang’s just glad that his place is now _beside_ the Fire Lord, and not across from him on days like those. 

“I see,” Aang mumbles, his voice muffled now that his whole face is pressing into Zuko’s skin. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Aang can feel Zuko's muscles shift as he lifts his arm to take another hit from the pipe. Aang knows in a few minutes that Zuko will get quiet, and will just want to stroke a lazy hand up and down Aang’s back until they both fall asleep. Most of his days are hard, and Aang is with him at the end of most of them. Knowing that he can contribute to making Zuko's life a little bit easier, a little bit gentler, a little bit slower...that's enough for Aang. To bring the man he loves some peace.

“No that’s alright,” Zuko finally responds.

If Aang had his eyes open, he would see plumes of smoke billowing around them in the most translucent of clouds. Instead he scoots further down the bed so he can lay his shoulder on Zuko more comfortably, height difference be damned. A firm arm wraps around Aang’s back, and lips press against the top of his head gently.

“This is all I need,” he says lowly.

**Author's Note:**

> short and sweet :) let me know what you think!
> 
> tumblr --> moderndaygaang


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